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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27168664">There's a Fixer Guy Around Here</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LMT/pseuds/LMT'>LMT</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cobra Kai (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:27:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,786</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27168664</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LMT/pseuds/LMT</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of what-ifs and fill-ins and fix-its.</p><p>Latest addition:  Robby in juvie, posting to Miguel &amp; Johnny on Johnny's facebook page.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>230</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>178</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Johnny & Robby - Hurt On Purpose</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Takes place during S2E10, after Daniel comes and kicks the door down and has his little tantrum.  He was a real dick to Robby there, and I feel like Johnny wouldn't let it stand.</strong>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Johnny walked in and dumped a couple of bags on the table.  School supplies, really basic, probably years out of date, but after this morning he just hadn’t had it in him to ask a saleslady for help.  Wandering up and down the aisles mindlessly collecting the sort of shit he used to need for high school had been about all he could manage.</p>
<p>Then he’d driven around for half an hour, too fast.  Picked up some beer.  Put away two of them and bought some more, before heading home.</p>
<p>But still – even after all that… Robby took one look at his face and knew something was wrong.  “Dad… what did you do.”</p>
<p>“Nothing.”  He looked up.  He wouldn’t lie.  “I didn’t <em>do </em>anything,” he clarified.  “I just went over to talk to him.  I might have yelled a little.  That’s all.”</p>
<p>“Jesus, Dad.”  It was the soft sigh of someone who was very used to being disappointed in his parents.</p>
<p>And this one time, it wasn’t fair.  “You don’t know everything, okay?”  He popped open a beer and poured half of it down the hatch first.  “LaRusso and I do have our problems...”</p>
<p>“You say the same thing about Mom,” Robby interrupted, but he ignored the little shit and talked right over him.</p>
<p>“-…but we’ve been trying to make it work.  I mean, last night I was out double dating with him and his wife.  Got ‘em both hammered.  They had a great time.  Okay?”</p>
<p>Robby looked nothing more than suspicious.</p>
<p>“So I thought I could go over there,” he said, “And talk some sense into him.  About you.”  It was only right to recount the whole thing; he wasn’t trying to go behind anyone’s back on this.  “I told him it’s time to pick a side.  He can go ahead and be a dick to you, the way he is to me and everybody else, <em>or</em> he can keep on playing Mentor Superdad – which I <em>hate, </em>by the way, but I’ve kept my mouth shut until now because I thought he was at least a good parent.”  He refocused.  “But he can’t do both.  Because it is seriously fucked to set up that kind of relationship with a kid, and then-…”</p>
<p>It was only when he heard his own voice rising that he realized how <em>way </em>too emotional he was getting.  He made himself cool off; no trophies had been broken today and no chokes applied.  He finished with something pretty neutral.  “-Pull the rug out.”</p>
<p>He sat down hard on the couch.  Finished most of his beer.  “That’s wrong, Robby.”  He <em>ached,</em> on Robby’s behalf.  “I mean, sure I’m a fuckup, but I would never, <em>ever </em>try to hurt you on purpose.  Never.”</p>
<p>Robby stayed silent for a long time, frowning and thoughtful.  Johnny just waited and played with his drink.  He wasn’t worried, because he knew that no matter how far back into the past Robby reached, no matter how many mistakes he was remembering, they were all just that: mistakes.</p>
<p>Sure enough, Robby came and sat down on the couch next to him.  Leaned forward with his elbows on his knees for a while.  Johnny almost, <em>almost </em>reached out to rub his back, because it looked like he needed it… but at the last minute chickened out, and just stretched his arm across the back of the couch instead.  It was true that Robby had come to him for shelter last night, and was maybe coming to realize that his heart was in the right place, but that didn’t mean they were on hugging terms or anything close.</p>
<p>Robby turned to him, and his eyes were weirdly bright.  “I try to hurt you on purpose all the time.”</p>
<p>That caught him by surprise.  And made him realize that this sitting posture was definitely no longer working, much too open, so he moved to put both hands in his lap instead.  “Eh, it’s okay,” he shrugged.  “I can take it.”</p>
<p>“Dad.”  Robby snatched him by the arm.  “It’s <em>not</em> okay.”</p>
<p>He pulled away – carefully.  “It doesn’t change anything, don’t worry,” he assured.  “I still won’t do you like LaRusso did even if you’re <em>mean to me</em>.”  Making a joke of it.</p>
<p>Robby forced a smile – taking cues, like the good kid he was.  “Well I will try to stop being <em>mean to you</em>,” he joked back.  Then he retook his grip and squeezed Johnny’s arm.  (His grip was <em>okay.</em>  Not as good as Miguel’s.  He really needed to start training for real some day.).  “Seriously.  I’m sorry.  I love you.”</p>
<p>Johnny felt that one in the throat and behind the eyes, so he pulled away again – harder this time.  “Stop,” he said.  “If you make me cry, all bets are off.  I’ll throw you out on your ass.”  He moved to tip back the last of his beer.</p>
<p>But Robby caught his wrist, and pulled it down.  Leaned in and challenged: “<em>Say it</em>.”</p>
<p>Johnny swallowed.</p>
<p>“Dad.  Don’t be a chicken.”</p>
<p>He wrenched free and took the sip first.  Said it into the empty bottle.  “Love you too, Robby.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <strong>The End.</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>(Of this one.  I've got a couple of other things in mind, and am open to adopting other people's plot bunnies if you have any, but that's it for this one.).</strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Daniel & Johnny - Who Trashed LaRusso’s Place</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Post dojo-trashing.  Divergent for when Daniel storms into the Cobra Kai class flipping out.</strong>
</p>
<hr/><p><em>“You don’t even know what a Sensei is.</em>  <em>A Sensei mentors!  A Sensei elevates!  He doesn’t teach destruction and disrespect!”</em></p><p>He was shouting into Johnny’s face, and the world had narrowed to exclude everything except the short few inches between them-</p><p>When Johnny’s eyes flickered, for a second, to the left.</p><p>It was jarring to have his concentration broken like that, but then he processed what he had just said and where Johnny’s eyes had gone and he understood immediately.</p><p>“You,” he breathed.  Turning in Kreese’s direction.  “It was you.  I should have known.”  He took one sharp step towards him, but crashed into the bar of Johnny’s outstretched arm.</p><p>A second ago, he had been <em>desperate </em>for Johnny to put hands on him and was all ready to destroy him when he did.  Now, he couldn’t care less.  “Let go of me,” he said without looking.</p><p>“No.”  Johnny’s voice was low and hard.  “Look at me, LaRusso.”</p><p>He looked, mostly because it was the fastest way to get unhanded so he could proceed.</p><p>“Get your head on straight.  You were obviously not thinking clear.”</p><p>“Yeah well I am now.”  He shoved Johnny’s arm away.  “Crystal clear.  <em>He </em>did it.”  Pointing.  “He taught your kids to do it.  He ruined them just like he ruined you.”</p><p>“Watch your mouth,” Johnny snapped.  “And calm down, and just tell me what happened.”</p><p>He took a deep breath.  Now his head hurt; Johnny wasn’t about to fight him and he was sick with the aftereffects of an adrenaline rush he wasn’t going to be able to use.  “Your kids trashed my dojo.”</p><p>“How do you know it was my kids?”</p><p>“Because I know!  Because they painted your goddamn mottos all over the place.  Because-...  Mr. Miyagi’s picture.  His medal.”  Great – he was choking up again.  He took a second to swallow and get his act together.</p><p>“Hey.”  Johnny crossed his arms.  “I had respect for Miyagi.  If any of my students have his medal, I will return it to you.  If <em>anyone here</em> has the medal,” he added loudly, without turning, “I will get it back.”</p><p>Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kreese cross the dojo and head for the door.  He heard the bell.  But the medal was more important than his anger, so he made himself focus.  He took a step back and ducked his head. <em> Go on.</em></p><p>“Class,” Johnny barked.  “Line up.” </p><p>Daniel moved off the mat to make room.  The kids got into their rows, throwing looks at him – all kinds of different looks, from angry to pitying to afraid.  He didn’t like a single one of them.</p><p>“Don’t worry about him,” Johnny ordered.  “Worry about <em>me.</em>”  The students’ eyes all made their way front.  “Because I guarantee you that I am a much bigger problem for you people right now than Daniel LaRusso, because you have royally <em>pissed me off</em>.”  His voice was rising.  “Now: <em>are you my students?</em>”</p><p>“<em>Yes, Sensei</em>!”</p><p>“Are you going to do what I tell you?”</p><p><em>“Yes, Sensei</em>!”</p><p>“Good!  Now, no more bullshit.  Everyone who had a hand in trashing LaRusso’s place, step forward.  Now.”</p><p>There was a hesitation of maybe a quarter of a second, and then eight kids stepped up.</p><p>“Good.”  Johnny walked the rows.  “Which one of you took the medal?”</p><p>“Me, Sensei!”  The boy with the mohawk barked it without hesitation.</p><p>“Okay.  Is it here?”</p><p>“Yes, Sensei.”</p><p>“Go get it.”</p><p>They all waited while the mohawk kid bowed off the mat and rummaged through his backpack.   He jogged back and handed it to Johnny.</p><p>“Stand there.”  Johnny pointed to a spot at the head of the class.</p><p>Then he came to Daniel and held the medal out calmly.  “What else?”</p><p>“Our- bonsai trees.”  Even this was hard to talk about without getting upset.  “They were uprooted, damaged-…”</p><p>“Got it.”  Johnny looked at the class again.  “That is not cool.  Trees are living things and they’re good for the planet.  Who messed with LaRusso’s trees?”</p><p>Three boys identified themselves.  Johnny moved them to the head of the class too.</p><p>“Anything else?”</p><p>Daniel sighed.  “I mean, they… they spray-painted everything, knocked stuff over…”</p><p>“Too bad they didn’t think to paint a dick on your billboard instead,” he said, aside.  “But okay.”  He looked at the culprits one by one.  “That kind of bullshit has consequences.  You guys will help LaRusso clean up his dojo this weekend.  Clear?”</p><p>Yes, Sensei.</p><p>“And now the entire class will do pushups – start with a hundred and we’ll go from there.”</p><p>The boy with the mohawk started to drop to the floor as well – but Johnny grabbed him by the arm.  Hard.  “Not you,” he said.  “You four are being punished.”</p><p>“But isn’t that…?”</p><p>“I give you pushups to make you <em>better.</em>  When I want to <em>help </em>you.”   Johnny let go and held his belt, formal and ominous.  “So today you four aren’t <em>allowed </em>to do pushups.  No exercises.  No getting better.  You’re gonna be punished instead.”</p><p>The boy with the mohawk swallowed.  He was staring hard at the floor.  “Punished how?”</p><p>“Turn around, in a circle,” Johnny ordered at once.  “Now.”  The boy did, and then looked at him uncertainly.  “Again.  And again.  Spin.  Keep going.  Do not stop.  All four of you.  <em>Diaz</em>.”  He called another kid from the class to come up.  “They are not allowed to stop.  If they fall down, you pick them up.  If they need to puke, you get them a garbage can.  And if at some point they tell you they <em>can’t,</em>” he added, scornful, “You will physically carry them to the nearest playground and load ‘em onto the merry-go-round.  Is that clear?”</p><p>Diaz bowed.</p><p>Johnny returned it, and then shot him a quick gesture.  “C’mon, LaRusso.  My office.”</p>
<hr/><p>He took the chair that was offered, but not the beer.  Tried not to peek out the window at the bizarre display.  “Jesus, Johnny.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“What are you, some kind of sadist?  How did you even <em>think</em> of that?”</p><p>Johnny snorted.  “Take a guess.”</p><p>Right.  Sadist indeed.</p><p>Johnny walked to the window and watched a few minutes.  Chuckled: “Yeah, that brings back memories.”  Then he grew serious.  “I’m going to have them out there for the rest of class.  So I can promise you, from experience, that they will be very sorry.  And I’ll have a long talk with everybody to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”  He came and sat down behind the desk.  “You need anything else from me?”</p><p><em>Throw Kreese out and never let him near a student again.  </em>Yeah, if only.  He fingered the medal in his pocket and shook his head.  “The medal is what I really couldn’t live with.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>Johnny had done everything right, so even though it burned him he made himself say: “I’m sorry I came in here and accused you.”  Better to apologize than cede the moral high ground to Johnny Fucking Lawrence.</p><p>But once again the jerk had to one-up him.  “Nah.  My students, my responsibility.  I apologize, and I’ll take care of it.”</p><p>Jerk.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <strong>The End. </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I still can’t understand how Daniel didn’t put two and two together – he’s ranting about what True Senseis are supposed to be like and there’s Kreese just lurking malevolently in the corner, while Johnny stands there having obviously no clue what he’s talking about.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Daniel & Johnny - Kreese's Apology</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Divergent for Kreese’s apology.  Instead of stopping by the dojo with a (fake, I swear it was fake!) trophy...</strong>
</p><hr/><p>On the phone, Johnny was mysterious: “Hey LaRusso, it’s Johnny Lawrence, I need a favor.  I know it’s a pain in the ass, I’m sorry, but I need you to come over to my apartment for a couple of minutes.  I’ll owe you one, anything you want.  Just come.”</p><p>Once Daniel got there though, Johnny opened the door and came straight out with the ask.  “This is your lucky day, LaRusso.  You get to kick the shit out of me.  Come on in.”</p><p>Daniel followed him inside.  The smell of alcohol was overpowering; had he spilled it all over himself or could that somehow be just his <em>breath</em>?  He tried to make sense.  “You… want to fight?  You know I’ve always loved beating you up, okay, but it’s nine o’clock at night-”</p><p>“Not <em>physically.</em>”  Thick, boozy contempt.  “You couldn’t do that if you wanted to.”  He made a sloppy gesture towards the table, where a phone sat all by itself – next to a spreading (alcohol?) puddle.  “I got this message.  Listen.”</p><p>Daniel stayed where he was, near the door in case this got <em>too </em>weird, as Johnny lurched over to the table and pawed at the phone.  Somehow he managed to get what he wanted: the speaker on, the voicemail playing.</p><p><em>“Hey, Johnny.”  </em>A voice that was too rough and soft for Daniel to recognize until it introduced itself.  “<em>It’s me, uh.  John Kreese.  I, uh, I just wanted to call you and, uh-</em>”</p><p>“<em>Kreese?</em>  Johnny, what the hell,” he said over it.  “Kreese is alive?  Why is he calling you?”</p><p>Johnny sat and slumped over the table, braced on his elbows, hanging his head.  “Just shut up and listen.”</p><p>“<em>-that an apology this late, is, uh… late.  I know that.  But I still wanted you to know.</em>”</p><p>“He called to <em>apologize</em>?  Right.  He wants something from you.”</p><p>“<em>-hard on everybody – but you especially, because you were the best.  You were always the best.</em>”</p><p>Daniel watched him burrow deeper into his arms, like he was trying to hide from it, like he couldn’t handle hearing the voicemail one more time.  (But how many times had he listened already?)</p><p>“<em>I never should have let you think I was disappointed in you – because I wasn’t.  Because you-</em>”</p><p>“You’re not buying this bullshit, are you?  He’s just trying to get under your skin.”</p><p>“<em>-One more chance to work with you again.   I want it so bad, Johnny, because what you’ve done, it’s fantastic.  You’ve made so much of yourself.  And of your students.</em>”</p><p>“Yeah, no thanks to <em>him</em>!  This makes me sick.  Why do you even listen to this guy?”</p><p>“<em>-so proud.  So proud of you, kid, you’ve really done a great job.  And I just want to be part of it.   And I know you might say no, you know, and I’d understand, cause I know I’ve let you down, and you deserve better, but I was just hoping maybe-</em>”</p><p>“You’re not actually considering letting him in,” he said.  “Are you?”</p><p>“<em>-so just think it over, okay, and give me a call.  I’d be glad to hear from you either way, kid.  You’re doing fantastic.</em>”  Before the line went dead there was a rush of air – like Kreese had drawn in a big deep breath.  What, like he was pretending to have <em>emotions </em>now?  Please.</p><p>There was silence.  Finally Johnny raised his head.  “I know it’s bullshit,” he said.  “And I know <em>you </em>know it’s bullshit.  Now I need you to <em>tell </em>me it’s bullshit, so I believe it, so I don’t fuck up and actually make the call.  Because you know what he was to me, and that message is <em>everything</em> I ever wanted to hear.”  He pressed his lips together.  “But it’s not true.”</p><p>So Daniel sat down.  Opposite him at the table, the phone and booze puddle between them, and did his best.  “Johnny.  I’m a car salesman, all right, I know bullshit when I hear it.   And you are absolutely right: Kreese is just trying to manipulate you.”  This close up, he could see that Johnny’s eyes were red – and watery.  He’d been crying.  He might be about to cry again.  So he softened his tone and tried to sound encouraging.  “Hey.  You don’t have to listen to him.  Okay?”</p><p>Johnny sniffed.  “No,” he said impatiently, “I could have paid the parking lot hooker to say <em>that.  </em>That won’t cut it.” </p><p>Parking lot hooker?   “Then… I don’t understand what you want.”</p><p>“I called you because you know me, and you know that none of <em>that</em>,” pointing to the phone, “Is true.  I need to hear it.  And I need it to hurt.”  He leaned back in his chair.  “So come on: lemme have it.”</p><p>He stared.  Sure, he didn’t like the guy, but-…  “No.  I can’t do that.”</p><p>“Why not?”  Johnny smiled at him – tight and bitter.  “You think I <em>am </em>fantastic and I <em>was </em>the best?  You think people actually <em>do </em>want to be part of my life?”  He laughed.  “My own <em>kid </em>doesn’t want-.   Shit.”  He took a second.  “Just get it over with: remind me that anyone who says they want to throw in with me is obviously lying, and get the hell out.”</p><p>He would not do it.  Unqualified emotional abuse was not his style, and he didn’t kick people while they were down.</p><p>But he could, at least, tell him some truths that might help him find clarity.  “Look, let’s get things straight.  Your sensei was <em>never</em> proud of you, okay?” he said bluntly.  “You fought a great tournament and he wasn’t proud of you.  When you tried to act like a regular kid, he choked you out.  He doesn’t like <em>any thing </em>about you except what he put there.”</p><p>Suddenly, he saw an angle.  “…And what he put there is shit,” he added.  With conviction.  “It’s all the worst parts of who you are.”</p><p>Johnny looked up at him for a second, and then looked away. </p><p>“It’s why you’re such an asshole,” he went on.  “It’s why you lost Ali and every girlfriend since.  It’s why you didn’t know how to take care of your kid – and you wouldn’t learn.”</p><p>He told himself that he was only being honest – and that if anything it was actually a kindness to clue him in.  But still.  He knew exactly what Johnny was hearing.  <em>You’re an asshole.  You’ve lost every girlfriend.  You didn’t take care of your kid.</em></p><p>Oh, well.  So much for not kicking people while they were down.  “If you let him back into your life, all he will do is make you worse.  I know him.”</p><p>“Not like I do, man.”  Slouching, exhausted.  Defeated.  “I told you, he was my-”</p><p>“And <em>I’m</em> telling <em>you</em>, that no matter what you think he was to you, you are not going to get any actual approval from that man as long as you’re a decent human being.”  He pulled up short, surprised to have got here… but here he was.</p><p>“…Which you are,” he finished.  “Okay?  God knows I can’t stand you, but I’ll admit Kreese was right about one thing: you deserve better than him.  So do your students.”  At the mention of the kids Johnny jerked.  “Yeah – your students.  Remember them?  You have a responsibility to your kids, Johnny.  Even if you won’t protect <em>yourself </em>from this dirtbag, you have to protect <em>them</em>.”</p><p>Silence.</p><p>Had it worked?  Daniel reached out for the phone. “I’m going to delete this message, okay?” </p><p>Johnny lunged across the table.  They struggled for it, splashing in the spilled beer, until Daniel (sobriety had its benefits!) wrenched a hand free and cuffed Johnny across the face.  Hard.  “<em>Let. Go.</em>” he ordered.</p><p>Johnny sat back, looking shellshocked.  Touched his cheek uncertainly.</p><p>
  <em>Either I got through, or we’re about three seconds away from a fight to the death.</em>
</p><p>“I <em>said, </em>I’m going to delete this message,” he repeated – and this time he didn’t ask for permission; Johnny had <em>given </em>permission by calling him over here in the first place.  “You do not let this man back into your life, and you do not let him into your dojo.  Now: gimme your goddamn passcode.”</p><p>Johnny looked down at the table.  “2402.”  He was mumbling.  Miserable.  Just sat there, while Daniel operated the phone.</p><p>It was impossible to tell where his head was at… but the voicemail was gone, so that was an improvement at least.</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>The End.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>On rewatching season 2 I was struck by how masterful kreese’s manipulation is – he reads Johnny really well and changes direction whenever his approach isn’t working, and eventually lands on the exact right tone for every occasion.   Johnny is no match for him, and given their history I think he will <em>never </em>be a match for him on his own.   So this time I gave him a chance to call for backup.  :-)</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Also, I am SO SURE that that trophy is fake.  I hope he and Daniel look at each other’s one day and realize that they aren’t even the same font &amp; brand or whatever.  </strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Johnny & Miguel - Queerness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Miguel knocked on the office door.  “Sensei?  You have a second?”</p><p>He could tell at once that it was a safe time to ask questions.   Sensei Lawrence hadn’t yet changed back into street clothes, meaning he wasn’t in a hurry, and he was in a good mood – already bending down into his fridge.</p><p>“Miguel.  Sure.  What’s up.”</p><p>“Some of the guys were talking, and… there’s a question they wanted me to ask you.”</p><p>His eyes narrowed a little.  (No wonder; on second thought that <em>was </em>a pretty shady opening.).  “Okay.”</p><p>He had already decided on a formulation – the most general, casual formulation he could think of.  “We just want to know: how are you with queerness?”</p><p>Sensei stilled.  “<em>What?</em>”  Low and dangerous.</p><p>Okay, wrong formulation.  He explained fast.  “We were just wondering if it would bother you if some of the guys or girls in Cobra Kai were gay, or bi, or trans, or in any other way gender nonconforming.”  Sensei was frowning - definitely confused.  “Do you… know what that is?  Do you know what <em>any</em> of that is?”</p><p>“I know <em>gay.</em>  I know <em>bi…</em>.sexual.”  As if he was checking that he’d gotten the word right.  Miguel nodded at him, encouraging, like it was a good start.  (It wasn’t, really.  Oh my god.  He lived under a rock.).  Then Sensei brightened up.  “<em>Queer</em>’s not rude anymore,” he remembered, suddenly.  “Right.  Got it.”</p><p>Oh, right.  Miguel laughed.  “Yeah, no, we use <em>queer </em>as like an umbrella term, to capture a lot of variations of people’s orientations, presentations, identities.  So that’s what we’re asking about.  Gay, bisexual, whatever else.  Is any of that, you know… a problem for you?”  It felt like the question was rude – like, <em>how dare you think I would be bigoted,</em> so he added, kind of apologetic: “I mean, you do use <em>pussy </em>and <em>sissy </em>and all as pejoratives, so.  We wanted to check.”</p><p>“Those <em>are </em>pejoratives.  But I have no problem with actual homos in Cobra Kai, if that’s what you’re asking.”</p><p>“Um, calling people <em>homos</em> actually <em>is</em> pretty rude these days-”</p><p>“-It’s sissies and pussies that piss me off.  <em>I don’t do pushups cause I’m too weak,</em> or <em>Don’t kick me cause it’ll wreck my hair.</em>  That shit is not happening here.  But as long as you’re badass, or working to <em>become</em> badass, no it doesn’t matter who you’re scoring with off the mat.”</p><p>He was relieved – that was more progressive than he had expected.  “Okay, great, glad to-”</p><p>“Actually wait: it <em>does </em>matter – it should be someone hot.   It makes the rest of us look bad if you’re walking around with someone who needs a bag over their head.  Guy or girl.”</p><p>He sighed.  So much for progressive.</p><p>“So, now I have a question for <em>you, </em>Diaz.”</p><p>He nodded.</p><p>“Why are people hiding behind you to ask me stuff?”</p><p>He shook his head.   “There are a lot of macho guys our parents’ age who aren’t cool with this kind of thing.  So, everybody wanted to hold off on coming out to you until we found out how you were going to react.”</p><p>“<em>Everybody?</em>  How many guys are we talking about here?”</p><p>“Well, Hawk’s bi.  He wanted to be the first one you heard about.”  (<strong><em>If</em></strong><em> he’s cool with it,</em> Hawk had said nervously, slurping the last of his coke to make the loudest, most aggravating sound possible.  <em>Otherwise keep your mouth shut.</em>).  “And for the rest, I think it’s for them to decide how open they want to be.  I wouldn’t go behind anybody’s back.”</p><p>“Fair enough.”  Then Sensei winced.  “Hawk… Just tell me he’s <em>not</em> dating that mouthy little shit who used to come around here.  Please.”</p><p>“Who, Demetri?  Oh my god no.  They’re just friends.  Or – they were.  But Hawk can’t stand pussies either now, so they’ve kind of fallen out.”  He felt sort of unhappy about that, and felt like there was some blame associated with it, and he sort of knew whose fault he felt like it was.  So he talked about something else instead.  “Hawk’s dating this girl Moon – do you know her?  Here.”</p><p>He whipped out his phone, had photos up in a second and held it out.</p><p>“<em>Damn.</em>”</p><p>“Yeah.  She’s bi, too.”</p><p>Sensei scrolled through a few pictures, then looked at him with very raised eyebrows.  “So you’re telling me Hawk is dating <em>this babe – </em>who will also get with other babes?”  He handed the phone back.  “That is <em>nice</em>.”</p><p>Miguel laughed.</p><p>“Tell everybody that as long as they’re staying tough out there, it doesn’t matter which team they’re batting for.” </p><p>He thought he was parsing that right…</p><p>…but his cluelessness must have been obvious, because Sensei sighed and rephrased.  “Tell ‘em they can be as <em>queer </em>as they want.”  Then nodded to the phone.  “Especially if they’re going to wind up landing chicks like that.”</p>
<hr/><p>
  <strong>The End.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I was just rewatching the scene where Aisha first joins.  Johnny and Miguel arguing and him claiming women have "tiny hollow bones" just really made me laugh today.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Tournament - Robby Doesn't Need This</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Divergent for the tournament – because I think it was an incredibly dick move for Daniel to throw his student out “permanently,” and then still attempt to show up and coach him the next day.</strong>
</p>
<hr/><p>He saw LaRusso enter – not with Robby.  He saw Robby notice him for the first time, and tense, and turn away to finish his warmup in another direction.  He saw Robby <em>not </em>go over and say hello.</p><p>The mistrust, the <em>hostility, </em>were plain.  And totally understandable; last night as he drove away he saw the dojo door closing, locking Robby outside, and he felt so bad he almost stopped and offered the kid a ride.  He knew he should have.  But he was still too angry then, and too raw, and he knew there was every chance he’d say something awful and make things worse.</p><p>But now, he’d had some time to calm down.  Now he was able to step up and do something useful.  LaRusso was obviously not here at Robby’s request, and not welcome. </p><p>“Hey,” he said to Hawk, next to him.  “You ready?”</p><p>“Ready, Sensei!”</p><p>“You got this?”</p><p>“I got this!”</p><p>“You got this <em>alone</em>?”</p><p>“What?”  Hawk stopped bouncing around and looked at him in puzzlement.  “What do you mean, <em>alone</em>?”</p><p>“I mean are you okay to fight this match without me?  I think I’m going to go drag LaRusso into the parking lot.” </p><p>Hawk followed his gaze, then broke into a wide grin.  “Oh, right on!  Absolutely, Sensei!  I got this.  You go take care of business.”</p><p>“You too, Hawk.  You got this.”  They fist-bumped, and he headed off around the side of the mat.</p><p>He was positive he had read Robby correctly, but just in case he stopped by him to check.  “Robby, hey.”</p><p>“Hey.”  Robby wasn’t exactly glad to see <em>him, </em>either.</p><p>“You should get to compete at your best – not distracted by bullshit.  How about LaRusso and I both get out of here.  Would that make for a better tournament?”</p><p>Robby hesitated.  Looked over to the bleachers.   Finally admitted: “Yeah, probably.”</p><p>“All right.”  So that was that.  He went over and didn’t waste words.  “Get up,” he said.  “You and I are going outside.  Robby doesn’t need your shit today - or mine.  Let’s go.”</p><p>LaRusso didn’t move.  He only looked up and said incredulously: “Who the hell do you think you are?”</p><p>People were starting to look at them now.  Johnny didn’t raise his voice – though he was about half a second from throwing a choke.  “You know exactly who I am.  Now get up, or I’ll take you out of here myself.”</p><p>He stood and looked around.  “Johnny, we’re in public.”  Like he was a misbehaving kid.</p><p>Johnny didn’t bat an eye.  “Then I guess everyone is going to see me beat your ass publicly.  If that’s what you want.”  He held his hand out, like for a truce.  “Or, we can just go wait in the hallway together while the kid competes.” </p><p>LaRusso didn’t take his hand.  “Did Robby tell you to come do this?”</p><p>Johnny withdrew the gesture.  “He didn’t have to.  I know what it looks like when a sensei’s making his student miserable.  I asked if he’d rather you and I step out, and he said yes.”</p><p>LaRusso looked over, to where the competitors were stepping up to their places.  Robby was looking their way – and looking stressed out.</p><p>“He needs to focus,” Johnny said, still quiet, “Or my guy is going to tear his head off.”</p><p>“Oh what, so, you’re doing this <em>for his own good</em>, is that it?”</p><p>“Yeah.  That’s it.”</p><p>LaRusso thought about it a minute, then gave in and shoved past him to head for the hallway.  Johnny turned to throw Hawk a pumpup gesture, and Robby a nod, before following him out.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <strong>The End.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I mean, the nerve of that guy is unbelievable.  If I were Robby, I would have stomped off the mat and thrown Daniel out myself.  Or publicly changed my affiliation to join Cobra Kai once I made the finals.   &gt;:-)</strong>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Daniel & Johnny - Teaming Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Post season 2.  Daniel and Johnny team up - sort of.</strong>
</p>
<hr/><p>The line of demarcation is clear, across the exact center of the dojo, and it is never violated.  For Sensei LaRusso’s people to reach their half of the practice floor from the front entrance, they have to keep to a clear pathway marked along the edge of the room.   For Sensei Lawrence’s people to use the bathroom, which is in the back, there is a separate clear pathway marked along the room’s <em>other </em>edge. </p><p>The division had been worked out on the very first day.  “I assume you’re lazy enough to want the front half,” Daniel had sniped, “So you don’t have to walk all the way around the room.”  Johnny had crossed his arms.  “Whoever’s got the bathroom in his half has to clean it,” he announced.  “So: yeah.  You take the back.”</p>
<hr/><p>The front of the new building just says: “DOJO.”  It’s the result of a great deal of negotiation.  <em>I’m not joining your team any more than you’re joining mine, </em>Johnny had told him.<em>  We can call it, you know, Lawrence and LaRusso’s Perpetual Beatdown Factory or something.</em></p><p><em>Absolutely not.  We'll come up with a neutral name,</em> Daniel told him. <em> Nothing... violent.  </em></p><p>
  <em>Yeah, okay.  How about... Danny's Knitting Club?  </em>
</p><p>Sometimes, when they’re getting along unexpectedly well, Daniel briefly imagines proposing something a little more personal than DOJO.  But he never quite finds the right moment, or the right proposal.  Anyway it doesn’t really matter.  It’s not like there isn’t enough personality in the building as it is.</p>
<hr/><p>One of the Miyagi-do girls steps up to the line, hands behind her head like she’s being arrested.  A Cobra Kai boy comes to meet her, same posture. </p><p>“Sensei LaRusso says to make sure you guys don’t leave anything in the corner after practice, because the HVAC guy is coming tonight for the vent thing.” </p><p>The boy carries the message, and returns with an answer.  “Sensei Lawrence says to bite him; we never leave stuff on the floor.”</p><p>When he hears that Daniel rolls his eyes, and pretends not to see the rude gesture Johnny is making at him.</p><p>The kids devised the in-class communication system on their own.   He and Johnny both use it religiously, even though he’s pretty sure that at this point they could reliably talk to each other like adults if they tried.   Hell, they sometimes even have a beer together! </p><p>(That’s mostly when they are working out dojo bills or paperwork.  And often it ends in a <em>friendly sparring session</em> to settle an argument.   Only once did it end in a concussion.).</p><p>(It was an absolutely fair kick.)</p>
<hr/><p>The opponents are squared up.   The referee (neutral; a kid from another dojo they’ve paid for the afternoon to come give the bouts a more competitive feel) tells them to get on guard.</p><p>And in the silence Daniel hears Johnny call out one last bit of coaching to his fighter:  “Remember the busted rib on his right side.”</p><p>Daniel stares, mouth open.  The injury was weeks ago, basically all healed or he would never let the student spar, but still.  He is furious that Johnny would have his kid-</p><p>“-Stay away from it, like I said.”</p><p>The boy sighs with irritation but nods, and relief floods Daniel in a warm rush.  He smiles sheepishly at Johnny, like <em>fine, okay, this time I misjudged</em>.</p><p>Johnny reads him like a book.  And doesn’t look very forgiving.  He tells his fighter, loudly: “If you can’t find another target to hit on an opponent that size, I’ll have you kicking pads this weekend until your foot falls off.”</p><p>After class, they argue about it – <em>If you think I should be doing more conditioning with my kids why don’t you just say so</em>, he snarls, and Johnny smirks <em>I’m not going to tell you how to run your practices, LaRusso, that’s <strong>your</strong> job.  </em>He takes the bait gladly.  <em>Oh, please.  Like I would ever want to run my classes like you!</em></p><p>They argue until they’re both riled up, until anger has eclipsed whatever else they might have been feeling at each other.   It may not be a <em>great </em>system, but it’s working. </p>
<hr/><p>
  <strong>The End.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Man, I really, really hope they end up working together in some capacity next season!</strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Daniel & Johnny - Albuquerque</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">A/N:  Post Season 2.</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<hr/><p>Someone sits down heavily next to him, much too close, flopping down on the stool directly to his left like his personal space means exactly nothing.</p><p>“Hey,” he slurs, shifting to face the guy.  “Watch it.”  There are plenty of other open seats.</p><p>“You were right,” LaRusso says grimly. “Your stepfather is a real piece of shit.”</p><p>He blinks.  The light is bad.  The music is loud.  But not <em>so </em>bad or <em>so </em>loud that he has any doubts.  This isn’t a stranger who sat down and called him names: what he’s seeing and hearing is absolutely Daniel LaRusso.</p><p>Which means he’s hallucinating.  Fuck – how much has he drunk?  He turns back to the bartender, who’s drying a glass right in front of him.  “Hey.  How deep in am I?” he asks, loud and careful.</p><p>The bartender stops wiping.  “What, like, generally?  Pretty deep, brother.  I’m sorry.”</p><p>“No, I mean.”  Johnny winces.  Jerks his head at the stool next to him.  “Right now.  Am I imagining that guy?”</p><p>The bartender resumes his work.  “Nope.  Skinny, dark hair, kinda concerned and kinda pissed off. He’s there.”</p><p>“Okay.”  Johnny drinks a little more before turning.  LaRusso is definitely actually there.  “Get the hell out of here.”</p><p>“Oh, yeah, Johnny, absolutely.  I stalked you all the way to <em>fucking Albuquerque </em>just to turn around and leave because you’re an asshole.”</p><p>He doesn’t rise to the bait – doesn’t even have an urge to.  He’s got no rise left.  “I don’t care why you’re here, but I want you gone.”</p><p>“I punched him,” LaRusso volunteers, a little hopefully.  “Your stepfather.  Doesn’t that entitle me to at least, like, five minutes of conversation?”</p><p>“You punched Sid?”  That’s enough, at least, to get his interest.  He can remember itching to punch Sid – he’s envisioned doing it more times than he can count.  He’s never imagined someone else doing it for him… but now that he thinks about it, that’s a pretty satisfying image too.  “Tell me there was blood and I’ll buy you a drink.”</p><p>LaRusso says to the bartender: “Shots.  Now.  For both of us.  Then another of whatever crappy beer he’s drinking, and a vodka martini for me.”  He puts a card on the bar.</p><p>“Shots?”  His interest rises a little further.  (Along with his gorge.  He does not need a shot, not when his hangover is this bad.  But he can take it, probably.  He swallows a couple of times and then he’s sure.).</p><p>“Yeah.   Whatever it takes to keep you in that seat.”</p><p>“Who says I’ll talk to you even for shots?”</p><p>“You are obviously not in the business of saying no to alcohol right now,” LaRusso says, cold and sneering.  “I think my biggest challenge is going to be to get this done before your liver gives out on me.”</p><p>The shots are on the bar now.  Johnny does one, without flinching.  It’s so cheap it tastes more like cleaning product than any alcohol he can identify.   He watches LaRusso take his turn, without hesitation though with a lot more faces afterwards.</p><p>“Get what done?” he says at last.  “I’m not interested in anything you have to say.”</p><p>“Yes you are.  Miguel is awake,” he says.  “They don’t know how much-”</p><p>“<em>Shut up.</em>”He stuffs the thought of <em>Miguel </em>before he can put a face to the name.  “I don’t want to know that.  I don’t want to know anything.”</p><p>LaRusso ignores him.  “And Robby was arrested without incident, and he’s got a lawyer, and-”</p><p>“-Didn’t ask, don’t care.”</p><p>“Johnny, come on, cut the crap.  You <em>do</em> care-” The prick reaches out to grab his arm.</p><p>He throws him off.  “Touch me again and I’ll prove it.  I will stomp you until you’re not moving.”  He’s not threatening; it’s just a fact. </p><p>LaRusso leans back in his chair.  He looks… like he gets it now.  Good.</p><p>Johnny turns to his beer again.  “You bought me a drink, you can tell me about Sid.  That’s it.”</p>
<hr/><p>Okay, so, this is not going as well as Daniel expected.</p><p>He completely failed to anticipate this – he was all ready to deal with Johnny from the restaurant, or Johnny from the tournament (or, if need be, even Johnny from the apartment).  But he doesn’t know what the hell to do with this ice-cold psycho stranger, who basically threatened his life a few seconds ago and clearly meant every word of it.</p><p>It made his heart pound… for only a second, until it occurred to him that in this state Johnny isn’t realistically a match for him no matter how angry he gets.</p><p>(Old habits die hard though, and he’s still a little nervous.).</p><p>He clears his throat and tries to do this the nice way.  Take what’s already been offered, and hold off til a little later on pushing for more.  “So,” he says, as conversationally as he can.  “Sid.  Piece of work.”</p><p>“Why the hell did you even go there?”  More surly than angry.</p><p>He can’t blame anyone for turning surly when that asshole is mentioned, though.  “Because we were looking for you,” he says simply.  “Everybody.  Your kids are worried.  Robby’s worried.  We’re all worried.”</p><p>Johnny snorts.  Drinks.</p><p>“So I went looking,” Daniel continues before there’s time to pick a fight.  “I tried your apartment.  Looked like nobody had been there since-.”  He clears his throat.  “The door was still broken.”</p><p>Another snort.  “Yeah.  Thanks.”</p><p>“I fixed it, okay?  Don’t be an asshole.  I had a new door put on, and I gave the keys to your neighbors – Miguel’s family.  Okay?  The grandma has the keys.”</p><p>“Doesn’t matter.  I’m not going back there.”</p><p>“Okay, well.  If you want to, the door’s okay now.”  He takes a breath.  Waits for Johnny to follow up.  <em>How are they?  </em>Or, <em>Did you try the dojo?</em>  (Respectively: shattered and no.  He already knew from the latest batch of Cobra Kai refugees that Johnny won’t be found at the dojo anytime soon.).</p><p>But the followup doesn’t come until an interminable pause later, and all it is is:  “Sid?”</p><p>“Right.  Yeah, so.  I figured you were just… you know, off coping somewhere.  Except then Miguel woke up and started asking for you.  And I couldn’t-”</p><p>“<em>Fucking knock it off</em> about that kid,” he barks, slamming his hand on the bar.  “I’m serious.”</p><p>He tries to keep his voice reasonable.  “All I’m saying is that the kid seemed to need you, so I started looking.   I tried your old house.  Sid was an asshole – worse than an asshole.  We were worried that you might be dead in a ditch somewhere and he truly, actually didn’t care.”</p><p>“Wha’d he say?  To make you deck him?”</p><p>Daniel shakes his head.  “He’s a piece of shit, Johnny, and I’m not gonna repeat it.  I’m sorry you had to live with a prick like that when we were kids, okay?  I didn’t know.  Anyway I walked up to him and belted him right in the mouth.  I don’t know if there was blood – he covered up fast.”  Should he tell the rest?  The sound of Sid’s china crashing to the floor was music to his ears at the time, but for all he knows the stuff in the house means something to Johnny.</p><p>Then he thinks of the bare apartment and its cheap plastic dishes.  No – Johnny is not someone who cares about china.</p><p>“I cleared the table too,” he goes on.  Gesturing with an outstretched arm to show.  “And told him he’s a fucking asshole.”</p><p>Johnny smiles into his beer.  “I’da liked to see that.”</p><p>(No he wouldn’t, because what Daniel actually said was: <em>No wonder Johnny’s such a fucking asshole, look where he gets it from!).  </em>But this is the first smile he’s gotten, and he runs with it.  “Tell you what.  Come home with me now, and I’ll do it again for you.   No kidding.”</p><p>“No.”  Johnny looks over at him – blank again.  “I’m glad you hit Sid, man.  Now get the hell out of here.”</p><p>If Johnny leaves town, he’ll never find him again.  This was the only lead he has.  <em>He used to kid about running away to Albuquerque – don’t ask, it was a stupid joke, but whenever things were shitty at home it would be: welp, time to pack for Albuquerque.</em></p><p>This is his only shot, so he plays his trump card.  Anything to keep Johnny talking.  “You didn’t ask how I found you.”</p><p>“Because I don’t care.”</p><p>“Yeah?  Ali says hi.”</p><p>Johnny stares for a minute.  And then hits him, just about as hard as he hit Sid.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <strong>The End.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Aww, sorry for the downer.  Happy Thanksgiving :-/</strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Hawk & Johnny - Badass</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Johnny ended class a few minutes early: there was something that needed doing.  He lined the class up and walked the rows.  “It’s come to my attention that some of you need a little talk,” he lectured, “About what makes a Cobra.  About what you want to be.  About what we should and shouldn’t be doing with ourselves.”  He stopped moving and ordered, suddenly:  “<em>Hawk!  </em>To the front.”</p><p>Hawk gave his uneven little smirk and stepped to the head of the class.   Having no sense, yet, of being in trouble.</p><p>But he <em>was.</em>  Miguel had slunk in after practice last week to privately beg Johnny to ease up on nerds because Hawk <em>secretly was one.  </em></p><p>Closet nerdery could not be allowed to stand.  Johnny paced back and forth in front of the class and began the lesson.</p><p>“Hawk: are you badass?”</p><p><em>“Yes, Sensei!”  </em>Loud, forceful, instantaneous.  About this he had no doubts.</p><p>“Are you a man?”</p><p>“Yes, Sensei!”</p><p>“Would you fight anyone in this class?”</p><p>“Yes, Sensei!”</p><p>“Would you fight anyone in your school?”</p><p>“Yes, Sensei!”</p><p>“Would you fight anyone on the street?”</p><p>“Yes, Sensei!”  Cocky now, smiling.  Clearly, by this point he believed he understood the theme of the exercise.</p><p>So Johnny pulled a rug out.  (Not <em>the </em>rug.  Hawk would find that out in a minute.).  He lowered his voice and said, like it was the gotcha: “Would you fight <em>me</em>?”</p><p>(Miguel looked alarmed by that.  Johnny was a little offended – what did the kid think the plan <em>was?</em>)</p><p>Hawk stopped staring ahead and looked directly at him.  Looked him up and down.  Swallowed and nodded.  “Yes, Sensei.”  Quieter.</p><p>“Good.”  Johnny stalked past him.  Stopped, facing the window.  “Have you been hiding nerdy comic books in your bookbag?”</p><p>Silence.  “Answer the question.”  He whipped around and waited.</p><p>Hawk’s mouth tightened, twisted.  He looked frankly <em>hateful</em>.  He tossed his head once, twice… and finally answered, quiet, eyes down.  “Yes, Sensei.”</p><p>Heavy and serious, like passing judgment, Johnny went on.  “So you still collect nerdy comic books.  Yes?”</p><p>Hawk swallowed visibly.  Nodded.</p><p>“What was that?”</p><p>Cleared his throat.  “Yes Sensei,” he mumbled.  It was a tone the class hadn’t heard out of him since his transformation.</p><p>Johnny went on with the interrogation.  “And you’re planning on watching the next Marvel movie at midnight, the day it comes out, aren’t you.”</p><p>Hawk frowned.  Shifted.   Stole a quick glance up, before returning his eyes to the floor.  “Y...es Sensei?”   Soft – and suspicious, because after all it was a weirdly specific thing to ask.</p><p>“Hawk, do you <em>code</em>?”</p><p>Hawk swallowed.  “Yes Sensei.”  You could barely hear him.</p><p>Johnny caught Miguel’s eye and flashed a smile, warm and conspiratorial.  “I don’t even know what that is.”  Loud enough for the room to hear.</p><p>A lot of the students had begun squirming now.  Hawk getting shamed in front of the class was unusual and uncomfortable for everybody, and they hadn’t yet figured out what was up.</p><p>“Hawk!” he barked.  “I don’t think you’re understanding me, so let’s try again.  <em>Are you badass?</em>”</p><p>Hawk straightened up – found his footing immediately on that one.  “Yes, Sensei!”</p><p>
  <em>“Are you a man?”</em>
</p><p>“Yes, Sensei!”</p><p>“<em>Can anyone take that away from you?</em>”</p><p>“No, Sensei!”</p><p>He stepped up close, into the kid’s space.  Into his face.  “Are you done taking anybody’s shit?”</p><p>“Yes, Sensei.”  Quiet and intense.  And breathing hard.  Probably with fear, but as long as he pushed through it would be all right.</p><p>“Are you done being <em>afraid </em>of anybody’s shit?”</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>, Sensei.”</p><p>Johnny nodded at him and stepped back.  “That’s right.  So.  <em>Hawk, do you collect comic books.</em>”</p><p>He still looked wary, but at least he answered right away and without wilting.  “Yes, Sensei.”</p><p>“Good.  Are you going to <em>hide them</em> in your bookbag anymore?”</p><p>Understanding dawned.  “No, Sensei.”   Much better.  <em>Now </em>he was getting it.</p><p>“Are you going to carry them <em>wherever the hell you want</em>?”</p><p>“<em>Yes, Sensei!</em>” </p><p>“And what are you going to do if anyone has a problem with that?”</p><p>He took a breath and yelled with no further hesitation:  “Strike first, strike hard, no mercy!”</p><p>“Yes,” Johnny hissed to him.   “<em>There</em> we go.  Atta boy.”</p><p>He had him face the class, so they could repeat it all back to him – <em>Is he badass?  Is he a man?  Can he code if he wants to?</em>   But that was mostly for their benefit – Hawk didn’t need it.  He was standing tall, looking everybody in the eye again.  He’d gotten the message already.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <strong>The End.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I mean, I like Hawk a lot, but someone really needs to straighten him out.</strong>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Johnny & Miguel - Training</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A/N:  I re-watched the scenes of Miguel’s early training, and noticed that the things we see Johnny working with him on are striking, and blocking, and <em>how to escape a choke from behind.  </em>And of course that gave me feelz.  (I don’t only write kink.  I also have feelings!).  The show starts with the two of them already drilling it comfortably though, so I went ahead with a fill-in for what came before that.</strong>
</p><hr/><p>“Today we’re going to do some defense.”</p><p>Which meant: more offense.  Miguel squared up cheerfully and threw strikes into the air.   “Yes, Sensei!”</p><p>Sensei rolled his eyes.  “<em>Defense,</em> I said.”</p><p>“You said the best defense is-”</p><p>“Quiet!”  He shut up.  “Don’t talk back.”  He bobbed his head in apology, even though he knew Sensei wasn’t being fair.  Oh well, must just be one of the cranky days again.  “I have a piece of <em>actual</em> defense that I actually want you to learn.  Early.  It’s important.”</p><p>Actual defense would definitely be a change.  He waited eagerly.</p><p>But then Sensei said: “It’s for when someone tries to choke you out from behind.”</p><p>The eagerness evaporated instantly.  “Uh.”</p><p>“All your instincts about normal striking and blocking aren’t going to help you,” he explained, “And when you can’t breathe is not the time to be trying something new.  You need to have this down cold.  So we’re going to work on it.”</p><p>“Aren’t chokes a little... advanced?”  He tried not to sound like a chicken.  “I mean I <em>just started</em> – and I’ve never done any-”</p><p>“Quiet!”  He shut up again.  “You think the enemy is going to <em>care </em>that you’re not ready?  You think he’ll hesitate to misuse whatever power he has?”</p><p>“No Sensei.”  This was still dangerous, and premature.  He was <em>sure</em>.</p><p>“So that’s why you’re going to learn an escape,” Sensei said.  “But before you do: come here.”</p><p>The squared-up posture looked like danger, so he didn’t move.  “Why?”</p><p>“Because you need to know what it feels like first.”  He sounded heavy, serious.  “You need to be used to it, or you’ll freeze up when the time comes.  Come here and face the mirror.”</p><p>He was going to die.  He was definitely going to die.  He opened his mouth but didn’t have any arguments that would work, so he just shook his head.</p><p>“Diaz.   On this one we will go slow.  I promise.”</p><p>Sensei was… waiting?  For him to say yes?  That was a first.   And should be reassuring.  He tried to stop believing that he was going to die…</p><p>… and didn’t really get there.</p><p>But he made himself say okay anyway.</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>The End.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>What do you think?  (And, am I the only one who's been obsessively re-watching all the Johnny &amp; Miguel stuff from the first two seasons in preparation for getting flattened by feelz in January?  Waaaaah.)</strong>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Sam & Johnny - Apology</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A/N: Takes place during the tournament.  Because it seems weird to me that Sam’s parents totally ignore the fact that she’s the one who wrecked Johnny’s car.</strong>
</p><hr/><p>She steers Samantha through the gym until they find the section of bleachers where the Cobra Kai kids are congregated.   The giant blond man-child is sitting with a tiny blond <em>actual </em>child, trying to tape up his glasses.  “There he is,” she tells Sam.  Gives her a little shove.  “Now go, before the next round starts and we have to wait again.  This is your chance.  Go.”</p><p>“Mom-…”</p><p>“Go, I said.”</p><p>Finally, after one more pitiful begging look, Sam goes.  She walks up to the bleachers and clears her throat for his attention.  “Sensei Lawrence?”</p><p>Amanda creeps close enough to hear their conversation, but no closer.  She isn’t looking to make a scene, and she has to be mobile enough to intercept Daniel if he sees this and starts charging over.  She isn’t looking for <em>him </em>to make a scene either.</p><p>When he doesn’t answer right away, Sam looks over her shoulder kind of hopefully, like maybe she thinks she’s getting out of this.  Amanda shoos her with a gesture to make her try again.</p><p>“Excuse me.  Sensei Lawrence?”</p><p>This second time Johnny hears, and looks up.  He frowns when he sees her and looks around - looking for Daniel, maybe, for danger? - and notices Amanda, so she throws him a strained smile.  He answers the greeting with an equally strained nod, then returns his attention to Sam. “Miss LaRusso.”  He rises.  He’s cute today, all dolled up in his karate outfit, standing tall with his arms crossed.  No wonder Daniel hates him.   “What’s up?”</p><p>“I just… wanted to say I’m sorry.  About-.”  She starts to look over her shoulder again, but catches herself in time and just pushes on.  “About your car.  I never apologized.  For me and my friends.  Well- they’re not my friends anymore.  But they were then.  I’m sorry.”</p><p>His eyes flicker up again – he knows damn well who put her up to this.  “It’s okay,” he says, looking at Amanda, “Shit happens.”  Then he addresses Sam directly.   “Kids do stupid shit, I’m not one to throw stones for that.  You guys should have stuck around though.  At least offered a ride home or something.”</p><p>“I know.  We were… we were scared.”  Amanda can see her hands twisting.  “No offense, but… you were scary.”</p><p>“So what.  Next time when you fuck up, you face it like a man.  Or-… like a… whatever.”  He looks irritated with himself, that his misogynistic caveman bullshit doesn’t translate when he’s lecturing a girl.  Amanda tries not to smile, and fails, because it’s kind of cute.</p><p>She notices then that Miguel, the ex, has maneuvered to stand behind Johnny and is coaching Sam from where he can’t see.  <em>Okay,</em> he mouths clearly, with big theatrical nodding.</p><p>Sam gets the hint.  Instead of arguing, the way she did to Amanda, that there are murderers out there and of <em>course </em>three young girls fled from a furious stranger… she just nods.  “Okay.  I will.  I’m sorry.”</p><p>He nods, like he’s satisfied.  “All right.”  He bites his lip.  Glances up to Amanda again – and then lowers his voice, so that she can’t hear him and has to edge closer.</p><p>She catches Sam’s response.  “<em>Me</em>?  For what?”</p><p>“For mentioning it to your parents.  Normally I wouldn’t narc on a kid like that - I was arguing with your dad and I lost my temper.  I’m sorry.  I hope you’re not in trouble.”</p><p>Sam fidgets like she’s shy.  “No, it’s okay, I’m not in trouble.   Not in more trouble than I deserve anyway.  Seriously, um, it’s fine.”</p><p>“Okay.”  He gives her a small smile, and it really is cute.  No <em>wonder </em>Daniel can’t stand him.  “Now get out of here, I gotta get my guys ready for the next round.”</p><p>“Okay.  Good luck.”</p><p>“Yeah, you too.  Uh.  Tell Robby.”</p><p>If Robby is even talking to them anymore, after what Daniel did.  But Sam doesn’t say that, she just nods and promises “Okay, I will,” and waves to the ex, and flees the scene.  She’s good at that.</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>The End.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I hope we get some Johnny &amp; Sam interaction next season.  I think they have the potential to be awkward and funny together.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I may put up some more Error 404 this week, but otherwise I'm probably only doing a couple of short things.   For some reason I get the sense my family wouldn't like it if I sequestered myself away to write fanfic for large chunks of hours during the holidays.   SMH.  I don't understand these people :-p </strong>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Miguel & Robby - Visit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A/N:  Miguel visits Robby in juvie.  </strong>
</p>
<hr/><p>They gave him one of the private rooms normally reserved for lawyers, and when they brought him there Robby was already waiting.</p><p>Robby didn’t raise his eyes from the table.  “I’m surprised they let you in here by yourself.”</p><p><em>Bide your time, </em>Sensei had said a hundred times.  <em>The first strike you land will be an excuse.   He’ll try to goad you.  Don’t fall for it.  </em>“Nobody says no to a kid in a wheelchair.”</p><p>“Yeah, might as well milk it.  You’re not <em>always</em> going to be a kid in a wheelchair.  Are you?”</p><p>He caught a tiny, <em>tiny </em>hitch in Robby’s voice.  Wouldn’t have even known to look for it if Sensei hadn’t coached him in advance.</p><p>“No.   One day I’ll be a grownup.”  Robby looked up at him then, a flash of anger, so he answered the question.  “Maybe a grownup in a wheelchair, maybe not.  They still don’t know.”</p><p>“What do <em>you </em>think?”</p><p>Miguel swallowed.  He hadn’t anticipated that question and nobody had come out and asked him before.  Everyone seemed to think that cramming relentless, baseless optimism down his throat was the way to go.</p><p>“Forget what people tell you,” Robby pressed.  “What do you think?”</p><p>He nodded.  “I think I’ll walk.  I think I’ll… get better.  At least some.”  He almost said <em>fight.</em>  He did think that, secretly, way deep down and in the dark and never, ever, ever out loud.  He couldn’t risk jinxing it, and he couldn’t face the humiliation of saying it and then finding out he was wrong.</p><p>“Good.  Good for you.”  Robby sat back.  Stared square into his eyes and said: “I didn’t mean to push you over.  I know it doesn’t help, but, in case you wanted to know, now you do.”</p><p>Miguel “knew” that, everyone had said it.  Even people who weren’t there.   People who knew Robby and people who didn’t.  But the thing was, no one knew Robby as well as he did.  No one else could feel Robby underneath them and on top of them and in their arms and feel exactly what was going on in that fucked-up head of his.   “Yes you did,” he said.  “In that second you did.  You wanted to kill me.  I get it.”</p><p>Robby pursed his lips and looked away.  “Good thing we don’t carry guns, I guess.”</p><p>“Yeah.”  He laughed, suddenly, out of nowhere.  “We wouldn’t have made it this far.  I’d have shot you on the beach.”</p><p>“If you didn’t miss and shoot Sam instead.”  He gave a faint, faraway smile.  Then straightened up.  “You know what I mean.  I wasn’t aiming to do that on purpose.  I just lost it.”</p><p>“I know.”  He made a face.  “Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell them I want you to rot in jail for the rest of your life.”</p><p>Robby frowned.  “You didn’t put your statement in yet?”  Miguel shook his head.  <em>Victim Impact Statement </em>was such an unappealing concept he hadn’t even been able to get started.  “I wish you did.  I assumed you wouldn’t come see me til after you sent it in.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Because how are you supposed to believe anything I say now?  Why even talk to me?”  Robby sounded almost angry.  “I could be just trying to kiss your ass so you write something that won’t screw me.”</p><p>“I think you’re a little screwed no matter what I write.  You pled guilty.”</p><p>“Yeah.  Because I did it.”</p><p>He chuckled.  “Yeah, it’s not like you were going to get away with it.  About fifty phones caught you in the act.”</p><p>“Mm.”   Weirdly, Robby brightened a little at that.  “How does it look on camera?  Not- the end.  I mean the whole fight.  How do we look?”</p><p>He shook his head.  “We look like psychos.  My mom made me watch it over and over again yelling at me like <em>is this who you want to be.</em>”</p><p>Robby shrugged, sulky.   For the first time he looked every inch a Juvenile Delinquent.  “Bet my dad was excited though.  It was pretty hardcore.”</p><p>He decided not to admit that Sensei <em>had </em>broken down the mechanics with him, repeatedly, correcting his mistakes and sneering at Robby’s (“fucking LaRusso must have taught him that; what <em>is </em>that?”), and even offering a little praise, a little, sometimes, for what he’d done right.</p><p>“He said I did the right thing not popping your shoulder, but I should have been more careful about letting you up slow.  He also-…”  He stopped.  Why would he admit this? </p><p>Because he had enough problems now without lugging around this little nugget of guilt, that was why.  “He also reamed me out for what I said to you.  About-, him.  So, I’m sorry for that.  That was a dick thing to say.”  <em>Like that move?  I learned it from your dad.</em></p><p>Robby smiled then – wide enough to reach his eyes.  “Yeah, well, like I said.  I guess it’s just a good thing we don’t walk around strapped.”</p><p>The smile also made Miguel notice: “Your lip.  Are you okay?”  <em>Are you getting beat up in here?  Anybody bullying you?  Anything Sensei is going to freak out about?</em></p><p>Robby licked it and shrugged.  “I’m mostly holding my own when I want to.”</p><p>That sounded a lot less certain than he would have liked.</p><p>But he didn’t want to start feeling <em>bad </em>for the guy.  They were not friends.  “Okay.  Well.  I guess I’ll head out soon.  I just wanted to come and see you.”  He smirked, because it was better to be an asshole than to be soft.  “And I wanted you to see <em>me</em>.  Make sure you feel bad.”</p><p>“I don’t,” Robby said immediately.  “I don’t feel bad.  I don’t even think about it.”  Before Miguel could process that or flip out, he added:  “I can’t – I might end up as one of those guys who hangs themself in their cell with part of the sheets.”  He looked down from Miguel’s face to the chair, and then away.  Shrugged.</p><p>What the hell did you <em>say </em>to that?  Maybe mouth off.  “I thought people use shoelaces.”</p><p>“They don’t give us shoelaces.  We have these, like… kid slip-ons, like you’d put on a kindergartener.”</p><p>That was kind of funny, because: “Yeah.  Me too.”</p><p>Robby gave him eyebrows and leaned around to look under the table.  Snorted softly.  “Same ugly shit.  Tell my dad to get you real shoes – he can tie ‘em for you, he used to do mine the bunny-ears way when I was little.”</p><p>“Okay.”  The gratuitous reference made him sure he had to ask.  “Do you want him to come see you?   He says you don’t want him to.”</p><p>“I don’t.”</p><p>“I mean, okay, but do you <em>really </em>not, or do you-”</p><p>“I said I don’t.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>“He can put money in my account though, so I can get snacks.  And buy my way out of trouble I don’t want.”</p><p>“You shouldn’t get in <em>any </em>trouble.  They’ll keep you longer.”</p><p>“Hey.”  His eyes narrowed.  “You worry about <em>your </em>problems, Diaz.  I’ve got mine under control.”</p><p><em>Sure you do.</em>  It felt great, actually, to spend time with someone who seemed to be in some ways in worse shape than he was.   “Sure, okay.  Listen, I’ll come back after I put my statement in, okay?  Then you can tell me, you know,” he rolled his eyes, “Being nice was all a trick, and you hate me.”</p><p>“Sounds like a plan.”</p><p>“Okay.”  He pushed back from the table maneuvered awkwardly to the door.  Knocked on it until someone came to buzz it open.  He didn’t look back on the way out, just called over his shoulder: “See you later.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p>
<hr/><p>
  <strong>The End.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Omg the Johnny &amp; Miguel clip today.  Omg.  ALL THE FEELZ!!!!</strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Daniel & Johnny - Your Car Is Ringing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u"> <strong>Your Car Is Ringing.</strong> </span>
</p><p>
  <strong>A/N: Takes place after the post-garagefight fight in S3.  Cause that hurt to see.  Especially because it looked like Daniel immediately wished he hadn’t said it – and <em>still </em>it went down like that.  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Also, if there’s a canon violation here about the whereabouts of any of Robby’s belongings, sorry.  I’ve only watched the early eps once so far – except the garage scene, which I’ve rewatched like whoa haha.</strong>
</p><hr/><p>“<em>Maybe I did – or maybe he just had a little too much of you in him.</em>”</p><p>He wished <em>immediately </em>that he hadn’t said that, snapped it in anger, it was mean and maybe true but way, way too harsh a thing to say-…</p><p>And then he saw Johnny wilt and knew how much worse it was than that, and he tried to apologize but Johnny wasn’t having it.</p><p>He tore away in that stupid old van.  Daniel kicked his own tire and looked around for a better outlet but all there was was the garage, which was currently full of semi-conscious people armed with tools and chains who wanted to kill him.  Right.</p><p>He got in his car and drove away.</p><p>He wanted to call.  He couldn’t call – Johnny didn’t have a phone.</p><p>But maybe the van did.  Robby was a kid, a kid’s phone was his lifeline, there was no <em>way </em>Robby had thrown his away.  He’d had it in the van.  Maybe it was still there.</p><p>He dialed Robby’s number, for the hundredth time since he disappeared, and prayed.</p><p>After four rings it picked up.  “WHAT THE HELL,” Johnny shouted, over some loud, grinding, terrible music.  “WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?  YOU PEOPLE’S CARS COME WITH PHONES NOW?”</p><p>“NO – THAT’S ROBBY’S,” Daniel shouted back.  “WILL YOU TURN DOWN THE GODDAMN MUSIC?”</p><p>“YEAH I’M TRYING.”  The music went away.  Then Daniel could hear the roar of the engine – and a loud fading honk that said Johnny had blown past someone.</p><p>“Johnny – Johnny, what are you doing?  I can hear that – you’re driving like a maniac.  Will you be careful?”</p><p>“The hell do you care?”  The engine revved again.</p><p>“No, I don’t, I just-. Um.”  If he crashed that thing now – if something <em>happened </em>to him – holy shit.  Robby would…  “Johnny please, would you slow down?” he snapped.  “I said I’m sorry, all right?  What more do you want?”</p><p>“Said you’re <em>sorry</em>?”  More honking.  “No, you said Robby’s my fault and you peaced out.  Why don’t you go suck a dick, LaRusso?  Fucking asshole.”  And he hung up.</p><p>He ground his jaw and drove faster.  Where, he had no idea, but if he didn’t keep up with how fast Johnny was going then there was <em>no </em>chance he’d be able to catch him again.   He drove faster, and hated Johnny for being impossible to get along with, for starting a massive brawl and finishing it too brutally and riling him up and then refusing to give him a chance to make peace.   He replayed that last part it his head, all ready to feel vindicated, except on a rewatch he realized that okay, maybe he’d never actually said the words <em>I’m sorry</em> and it was possible that Johnny had missed the point.</p><p>He dialed again but this time no one picked up.</p><p>He swore.  But thank god, with his hands-free setup he had other options.  “TEXT ROBBY KEENE.”  It asked what he wanted to say.  He hesitated.  Almost gave up – it felt like he shouldn’t <em>have </em>to apologize again; he’d already tried to get Johnny to stick around to he could make things right, and Johnny stormed off anyway.  How come he had to always meet so much more than halfway? </p><p>To get Robby taken care of, he would do it.  Somehow.  He wasn’t willing to have something heartfelt thrown back at him though, so he made light.  “I’M ITALIAN,” he said.  “DID YOU EAT YET IS HOW WE SAY I LOVE YOU.”  Sent it.</p><p>He kept driving.   The way was familiar, and suddenly he knew where he was going.  And there was every chance Johnny was heading there too.</p><p>A minute later his phone rang.  <em>Your car is ringing</em>.  “Hello?”</p><p>“What the fuck LaRusso, you aren’t supposed to text while you’re driving.  Also, what the fuck.  Like I care if you’re fucking Italian or not.”</p><p>“Did you- did you understand what I’m saying?”</p><p>“No. Are you drunk?”                                                                                                                 </p><p>“No, okay?  Listen.”  It was a good sign that he was still on the line, at least.  Maybe they could still salvage their alliance for the day – it had been working pretty damn well so far, until Johnny went overboard with the violence like he always did.  Though it was true that those goons had deserved it.</p><p>Then tires squealed.  “Johnny?  Johnny, are you okay?”</p><p>“Yeah.  Just, the breaks on this thing.”</p><p>“Listen it’s, it’s nervewracking to sit here and listen to you drive like nascar with no idea where you are or where you’re going, okay?  Would you-… would you please tell me where you are and pull over so we can talk?”</p><p>He heard the tires again.   No more engine roaring.  He heard it turn off.  “No, I think you’ve talked to me plenty for one day.  Thanks for the van though.”</p><p>He sighed.  At least he was off the road somewhere now.  “Are you at the All-Valley arena?” he asked.</p><p>“What the hell-!”</p><p>He grinned. “Thought so.   I’m there in two minutes.  <em>Do not leave, </em>I don’t feel like chasing you all over town.”</p><p>When he got there and found the stupid van at the edge of the parking lot, he pulled up and got out and knocked on the window.</p><p>“What?”  Johnny rolled it down without getting out, or even looking at him.  He’d found sunglasses from somewhere, too.</p><p>Well, good – earlier on it had been actually painful to see what was in his eyes. </p><p>And thinking of that look made it possible to suck it up and say everything outright.  “Listen, Johnny, I’m sorry, okay?  I shouldn’t have said what I said, about you and Robby, it’s not right, and I’m sorry.  That’s what I meant to say before.  All right – is it clear enough for you now?”</p><p>Johnny just shrugged.</p><p>“We were… I think we were getting somewhere, weren’t we?  We can try the tech place.  You and me.  You want to go?”</p><p>He shrugged again.</p><p>He was acting like a sulky little kid, so Daniel tried treating him like one.  “Johnny.  Knock it off and get in the car.”</p><p>“Or what?”  Johnny took a deep breath.  “I think we’ve just established that if it comes to a fight I’m willing to get it done and you’re not.”  He turned slowly, impossible to read behind his sunglasses.  “So why don’t you get the hell out of here and leave me alone.”</p><p>That was totally untrue.  “I hit a guy with a <em>crowbar</em> today, okay?  So-...”  He stopped.  Made himself focus on what was important.  “Look.  If I find Robby…”</p><p>The door opened hard enough to knock him back, and suddenly Johnny was towering over him.  “You threaten my kid I’ll fucking kill you, LaRusso.”</p><p>“Threaten-?  What-?  No,” he said fast, putting it together.  “Jesus Christ no.  I was changing the subject.  I was just saying: if I find Robby, and he tries to run, two of us can probably keep hold of him a lot better than one.  That’s all.  I don’t want him to get away, and I don’t want him to get hurt.  <em>Please </em>come with me, so we can do this.”</p><p>Johnny stood a minute, then got in the car.</p><p>Thank god – apology accepted, apparently.</p><p>Or not.  As he put his seatbelt on, without even turning to look, Johnny said: “You’re a gaping asshole, and after we find Robby I never want to see you again.  Is that clear enough for you?”</p><p>He swallowed.  Scrapped plans to stop by a gas station and get Johnny a snack and let him eat it in the car.   Pulled on to the road, and headed for the tech place without saying anything else.</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>The End.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Okay, so, once again that wasn’t too much of a fix-it, sorry.  At least I kept them working together a little longer though?</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Sometimes I feel like these two are constitutionally incapable of communicating with each other.  I would kill to see how they managed the negotiations at the end of this season haha.   I think there’s a nonzero chance that Sam and Miguel did it all, and these giant man-children never actually spoke to one another at all between the minimart and the first practice.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Ha actually… maybe they did it over facebook DMs.   With Sam and Miguel standing over them to edit what they wanted to say.  Lol I might try and write that, actually.</strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Daniel & Johnny - Rent's Gone Crazy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A/N:  This is about the Rent Hike Thing.  It diverges at S1e5 – after Daniel rolls by the strip mall at night to gloat.  The premise of this is: what if Miguel didn’t happen to get in his lunchtray fight and recruit a whole crowd on the <em>literal actual day </em>Johnny had a need of new students?  What would Johnny’s next move have been?</strong>
</p><hr/><p>(Without telling Amanda,) he drove by the strip mall the next day.    And the day after.</p><p>On the third day the Firebird was parked outside and the trunk was open and there were <em>boxes</em>.   He turned into the lot so fast his tires squealed.</p><p>As he sat staring at the scene his whole body relaxed, and only then did he realize how tense he had been, driving by here.  He had been waiting for this, holding his breath for this.  This.  Proof that it was <em>over.</em></p><p>Johnny came outside, headed for his own car… and froze when he saw Daniel’s.</p><p>He couldn’t just <em>sit </em>here.  Also, he wanted to hear it said aloud.  So he got out and sidled over.  “Hey, uh.  So.  Moving out?”</p><p>Too late he realized that it might seem a little cruel, like he’d come to rub it in.   But it wasn’t that – he’d come for himself, not for Johnny.  He just needed to know, to actually see, that Cobra Kai was over and done with.</p><p>Johnny gave him a long look.  Then his lips curved.  “You.  Wish.”  And he strode right past Daniel and made for the open trunk.</p><p>“But-.  Well I mean you, you’re not going to try to keep this place open,” he stammered.  “You can’t.  Right?”  Of course he couldn’t.  He couldn’t possibly afford a higher rent – there were no students.  There were never any students.  The place was empty, just sitting there, a yawning pit of evil <em>waiting </em>to suck people in.  It was a good thing for everyone, Johnny included, that it was disappearing.</p><p>Johnny answered from inside his trunk, bending way over to haul something out.  “Wrong.  I’ve already got it for another month.  I dropped my apartment lease to get my security deposit back.   So…”   He straightened, arms around a huge cardboard box that was overflowing with clothes and sneakers.  “Suck a dick, LaRusso.  Cobra Kai isn’t going anywhere.”  And he headed inside.</p><p><em>That’s his stuff,</em> he realized, standing there stupidly.  Johnny was moving his stuff into the dojo.</p><p>This was not at all going according to plan.  He looked up, like maybe the Cobra Kai sign would realize it was all a mistake and fall off of its own accord… but, nope.  The snakes were still there, glaring down at him.</p><p>He approached the car warily and looked down into the open trunk.  Another box… this one holding a clock and a dustpan and a heap of papers – with crayon drawings on top.  Crayon drawings – a kid?</p><p>He heard Johnny come out again.  “What’s that,” he said, stupidly, pointing.  “You have a kid?”</p><p>“Yeah.  But good luck screwing me there.”  Elbowing him aside to pick the box up.  “He already lives with his mom.  And she’s not going to freak over late child support, I always pay it eventually.”</p><p><em>Child support.</em>  Dear God, some poor single mother wasn’t going to get her child support because-…</p><p>Because <em>Johnny </em>was a stubborn ass. </p><p>Daniel stomped after him and shouldered open the dojo door.  It made his heart pound to come in here, but by now he was so agitated it hardly mattered.  “I didn’t ask you to do this, you know,” he called into the back, where Johnny was disappearing.  “I just wanted you to drop it with Cobra Kai.  I don’t know why you won’t just-”</p><p>“<em>Hey</em>!”  Johnny silenced him by shouting.  Came over, walking fast and tight and with fists clenched.  Daniel squared up and got ready to move in case there was a fight coming…</p><p>But all Johnny did was step very close to him say, low and rough:  “Defeat does not exist in this dojo.”  <em>What?  </em>“So as long as I am <em>breathing</em> I will not drop it with Cobra Kai.  Especially now.   So fuck off.”  He pushed past and headed back out to the car.  “I have a class to get ready for.”</p><p>A class?  Cobra Kai didn’t have any students – except that poor skinny kid he’d seen cleaning the place up last time.  And really, that made it much eerier and much worse.  Once upon a time he’d looked around an empty dojo just like this, at some of these same decorations.  The memory raised the hairs on his neck.</p><p>He went outside, and almost bumped into Johnny, who couldn’t see over an armload of pillows and bedding.  “Johnny – this is not what I wanted.”</p><p>Johnny shifted to make eye contact.  Smiled – cold and fierce as if he was <em>winning.</em>  “Good.”</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>The End?</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I'm thinking I may expand this and do a whole long fic on this premise, at some point.  Maybe.  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>As of now I just have one more thing vividly in mind: Daniel drops by the dojo again one night (cause it’s true he really just can’t leave well enough alone haha!) and sees Miguel and Johnny hanging out, having a drink on some makeshift floor setup, and flashes back to himself with Miyagi and then gets all upset that he even had that thought.  I’m not sure where this would be going though, so for now this will just live here as a one-shot.   </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>So: if you have thoughts let me know!</strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Kreese & Johnny - Training</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A/N:  Takes place after Kreese &amp; Johnny teach choke escapes to the class.</strong>
</p><hr/><p>After practice they sat in the office for a beer, as they sometimes did.</p><p>Kreese leaned against the wall.  “You did well today.”  Mild, casual.</p><p>Johnny knew enough, by now, to distrust the tone immediately.  “Knock it off.  I did the best I could.  You know I have history.  And you know why.”</p><p>“Johnny.  I’m not criticizing.”  He spread his hands, smiled disarmingly.  “I said you did well.”</p><p>“And I <em>hear</em> you saying the opposite,” he insisted.  It felt like a head game, and he was much too old to fall for those now.</p><p>Kreese shrugged impatiently.  “Well I don’t know what you think you’re hearing,” he said, “But I’m telling you you did fine.  None of the kids saw that you were frightened.”</p><p>“And you didn’t see shit either, Kreese.”  He used the name on purpose, to annoy him.  “You were behind me.”</p><p>“You’re my student.  You think I need to see your face to know when you’re afraid?  Please.”  He gave a wide, closemouthed smile.  “Anyway, kid, even if I didn’t know you from a hole in the wall, you couldn’t hide this one from me.  I had my arm around you, remember?”  That was a weird thing to say; he cocked his head in question.  Kreese tapped the side of his own neck, with two fingers.  “Pulse.”</p><p>He hissed in frustration.  How come he never, ever, <em>ever </em>got the better of this guy?  “Just let it alone,” he muttered.  “I drilled the move.  What more do you want from me.”</p><p>“Oh, I don’t want anything.”  Kreese drank.  “I’d think <em>you </em>might want to work on it sometime, but…”</p><p>“There’s nothing to <em>work on.</em>  It is what it is.”</p><p>“<em>It is what it is?</em>” Kreese repeated, all mellowness <em>gone.</em>  His eyes burned.  “What kind of loser mentality is <em>that</em>?”</p><p>Johnny shrugged, mutinous.  He didn’t disagree, but.</p><p>“There is <em>always</em> a way to work on it.”  Sliding back into mildness, a snake slithering back into its cave.  “Why don’t you come out to the mat with me right now and I’ll show you?”</p><p>Johnny looked up at him over his beer.  “I’m not drilling chokes with you.”  <em>Not here, in the dark, with no one to help me, with</em>-</p><p>“Fine.  All right.”  Kreese shrugged and returned to his drink.</p><p>Johnny watched him suspiciously.  “<em>All right</em>?” he echoed at last.</p><p>“Well, what do you want me to say, Johnny?”   He spread his hands.  “Do you want me to berate you for your cowardice?  I can if you like – but there’s no need.  In a couple of minutes you’re going to come around on your own.  I have faith in you.”</p><p>“Yeah, that’s a first,” he muttered, under his breath.</p><p>Kreese snorted.  “All these years and you’re still a little brat.”  It was affectionate.</p><p>Johnny finished his beer.  Looked down at the empty bottle.  He could start another one, or-…  “So like... how do you even drill that?”  He was just <em>asking.</em>  He wasn’t actually going to <em>do</em> it.</p><p>He <em>wasn’t.</em> </p><p>He didn’t look up, because he didn’t want to see Kreese’s smug little smile.</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>The End.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Rewatching their S2 scenes together, all I can think is: <em>Kreese has his number</em>.  At all times, in every way, he has it.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Let me know what you think!</strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Johnny & Robby & Miguel - On Facebook</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A/N:  This ficlet is facebook conversations on Johnny's page.  Sadly though, I can't do fancy formatting things to make this look like actual facebook posts, and I don't even know how to insert pictures.  Use ya imagination; it should be clear what they all are.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Takes place while Robby is in juvie.  If he cyberstalks his dad, surely he would stumble on the facebook page at some point?  And I feel like Johnny gives zero shits about keeping up appearances re family dysfunction, and would be totally willing to argue with Robby on a public facebook page if Robby wanted to.</strong>
</p><hr/><p>
  <em><span class="u">@Robby Keene</span>, that Like better be for me getting out of bed, and not for me being strapped into this stupid rig.</em>
</p><p><span class="u">@Miguel Diaz </span>The Like is for my dad not having let go and dropped you on your ass – yet.  Even when he’s reaching for his beer.</p><p>
  <em>Your dad can do pretty much anything when he’s reaching for his beer.</em>
</p><p>You would know.  I haven’t really seen him enough to say.  It’s kind of a win that we still know what each other looks like.</p><p>
  <em>He’s got your picture on his fridge.</em>
</p><p>He’s got yours on his facebook.  Stupid rig and all.</p><p>
  <em>That’s because I set up his facebook and I post his pictures for him bc he still doesn’t know how.  You want to take over Tech Support when you get out, be my guest.</em>
</p><p>I’d probably fill his computer with viruses.</p><p>
  <em>He probably wouldn’t notice the difference.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>You guys know I can see this, right?</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Yes Sensei it’s your facebook page.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>You guys need to knock it off and start getting along.</strong>
</p><p>Seriously?</p><p>
  <em>Seriously?  Okay who are you and what have you done with my Sensei?  At least tell us to fight it out like men or something.</em>
</p><p>You really want to fight me again now?</p><p>
  <em>I’ll be ready for you by the time they let you out.  Your dad’s a pretty good trainer.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Both of you STOP BEING ASSHOLES or I’m going to delete you.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Actually I don’t think you can delete us unless I teach you how.</em>
</p><p>I bet you weren’t this big an asshole before you met him.</p><p>
  <em>I wasn’t this big an asshole before I met YOU, that’s for sure.  I was a really nice guy.</em>
</p><p>You’re an asshole now.  Great I am now out of internet time until next week.  I can’t believe I wasted it on you two.</p><hr/><p>DISLIKE.  Angel wings??  What the hell is that?</p><p>
  <em>No no no no no.  Do not give him shit for this picture.  You don’t want to know what he was planning to post instead.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>You are just jealous because you will NEVER look that good.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>I will never look like THAT, true.  Nobody pours baby oil all over themselves for pictures anymore.</em>
</p><p>Dad this sounds like you are over there committing a crime.  Diaz is underage, you can’t show him whatever it is you’re showing him.</p><p>
  <strong>OMG Robby shut up it’s that one on the beach with my headband, I know you remember it.</strong>
</p><p>The one Mom held over the garbage disposal after you threw up in her closet?</p><p>
  <strong>I am actually going to delete that.</strong>
</p><p>You cried.</p><p>
  <strong>I did not cry.</strong>
</p><p>You begged.</p><p>
  <strong>It’s a really good picture.</strong>
</p><p>It’s NOT a really good picture and do not ever put something like that on facebook, omg.  I will block you so fast.</p><p>
  <strong>You can’t block me, you’re my son.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Actually Sensei facebook doesn’t work that way.  He can definitely block you.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Facebook sucks.</strong>
</p><p>…he says, on facebook.</p><p>
  <strong>Want me to come visit for real?</strong>
</p><p>No.</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Hey.  How do you even know about the garbage disposal?  You were like six.</strong>
</p><p>I remember it.  It was kinda memorable.</p><p>
  <strong>Sorry if we warped you.</strong>
</p><hr/><p>You know I still see it if you tag him, Diaz.  Just let him put it up on his too, I don’t give a shit.</p><p>
  <em>Sorry – just trying to be considerate.  Weaponizing FOMO is not my thing.</em>
</p><p>Where did you guys go?</p><p>
  <em>He snuck me in to see Twisted Sister.  Used the wheelchair to get me past the bouncer.  So, thanks?</em>
</p><p>Listen, if I knew the end result was my dad was going to drag you to shitty concerts when you cant even run away from him, I never would have done it.  Bottom of my heart I am sorry.</p><p>
  <strong>Guess what Robby, when you get out they’re going to make you live with me.  I will blast awesome music throughout the apartment day and night until you learn to appreciate it.</strong>
</p><p>I think I’m going to kill someone in the cafeteria so that they never let me out.</p><hr/><p>No way you did not seriously put this up.</p><p>
  <em>Hey.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>I knew you would stop ignoring me if I posted this!  I told you.  It’s such a good picture that even YOU can’t resist it.</strong>
</p><p>I haven’t been ignoring you dad.  Apparently they don’t like it in here if you joke about certain topics – I lost internet and have been going to extra therapy sessions.</p><p>
  <strong>Fucking assholes.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Sensei if they’re monitoring his internet conversations maybe we should all play nice.</em>
</p><p>They don’t care if it’s nice – only if it’s violent.   As long as it stays peaceful we can all hate each other as much as we want.</p><p>
  <strong>Nobody hates you, Robby.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Actually, I kind of do.  Sorry.</em>
</p><p>That’s ok.  I hate you too.  See dad?  We agree on something!</p><p>
  <em>When you come live with him we’re going to be neighbors.  We should work out a schedule so we can avoid each other.</em>
</p><p>Kinda hard when you’re glued to him all the time.  Actually not really – if you stay by my dad that’s probably the best way to make sure you’re NEVER near me.</p><p>
  <strong>The only reason I’m not visiting is you keep telling me not to.</strong>
</p><p>You can visit if you want – but only if Miguel comes too.   Because, if HE’S here, then maybe you’ll actually show up.</p><p>
  <strong>I changed my mind about facebook.  It’s awesome.   After you talk to me I can go punch walls and then answer when I’m good again.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Dear Monitors, HE IS KIDDING, Robby’s father doesn’t punch walls, his apartment is a totally acceptable place for a child to live.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>That’s right.  And it’s even got a rig in the ceiling that is strong enough to hold a teenager, so Robby if you give me shit I can just hoist you up there and not let you down.   That will keep you out of trouble at least.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Sensei seriously I would pay money to see that.  Robby – do you actually want us to come?</em>
</p><p>I don’t care.</p><p>
  <strong>We’re coming.</strong>
</p><p>Well either way I’m out of internet again.  Bye.</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <strong>The End.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Just wanted to envision something a little happier.  Not that this was *super* happy, but.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Anyway let me know what you think!  And, sorry I don't know how to do anything fancy like put actual pictures up.</strong>
</p><p> </p>
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